by Lisa Bork
She returned, followed by a brunette with a ponytail, wearing the black pants, white shirt and the tie of a server. “Patty knows him.”
The brunette’s ponytail swished behind her as she nodded. “Maury Boor. Class of ’90. He sat next to me in homeroom and at graduation. Real quiet. He’s grown a couple feet since then. He’s kinda cute now.”
“Do you know where he lives?”
“I thought he lived outside Buffalo, but I’m not sure. Try the phone book.”
“I did, online. I couldn’t find him.”
“Did you use his real first name?”
I tipped my head. “I thought it was Maurice.”
“No, it’s Emerson. That was his dad’s name, too, so they called him Maury. Maurice is his middle name.”
I thanked her for the information and headed for home. When I walked in, I found Danny in front of the television. Ray was in our office, on the phone.
He motioned me inside as he hung up. “Syracuse issued one season ticket to an Emerson Boor. He gave an address in Geneseo. Could that be Maury’s father?”
“It could be Maury. One of the waitresses who graduated with him said he was named after his father, Emerson. But she thought he lived in Buffalo.”
“The basketball season started over a month ago. I’m sure the University sent the ticket out months before that. Maybe he moved. I’ll call the department and have him run through DMV and check for a record on Emerson Boor. He’s somewhere close by.” Ray picked up the phone again.
I sank into an armchair to wait.
Ray didn’t seem to like the answers he got. A muscle in his cheek twitched as he listened. I leaned closer, trying to hear.
“Good work. Thanks for checking.” He hung up and rubbed the five o’clock shadow on his chin, making a rasping noise that sent shivers down my spine.
“DMV’s last known address for Boor is Buffalo. They’re sending his picture. I can start showing it around tomorrow. But there’s bad news, Darlin’. Emerson Maurice Boor, age thirty-five, has an arrest record in Geneseo for stalking a female co-worker.”
____
Tuesday morning I awoke after another nearly sleepless night, rolled out of bed too fast, and had to grab the bedpost because the room swayed. In fact, my whole life swayed. My sister was in the hands of a stalker, and my foster child might be about to learn his father was a murderer—and I didn’t think I could do much to protect either of them. I hated to be so helpless.
Ray had kissed me goodbye around six, eager to check out Erica’s apartment and hunt for Maury Boor. While he hadn’t been interested in Erica’s disappearance days ago, the fact that he was now on patrol, coupled with Maury’s record, made her top priority. I think he figured Maury had psycho killer potential, but he didn’t want to alarm me. He never liked to alarm me. Hence, he tended to hide things from me. This time it was too late—I had already made the leap myself.
I drove Danny to school and waited until he’d vanished into the stream of children walking through its front doors. He seemed to have a spring in his step this morning, maybe because Ray had asked me to bring Danny to the public safety building at seven p.m. tonight to visit his father. When I told Danny the plan at breakfast, his eyes had lit up, and he couldn’t wait to go out the door and get the day started. Perhaps he thought it would pass more quickly if he got the jump on it. I, on the other hand, dreaded what his visit to his father might bring, fearing Danny wouldn’t hold up well to learning about his mother’s and his aunt’s deaths, not to mention the fact that the police now considered his father to be their number one suspect.
At nine-ten I walked into the showroom. The door was unlocked. The bells jingled to announce my arrival, but Cory did not appear. I headed toward the garage entrance.
“Over here.”
I jumped. My purse dropped to the floor. I turned to find Cory sitting behind the wheel of the Ferrari in the middle of the showroom floor.
He waggled his fingers at me. “Sorry.”
I picked up my purse and walked over to climb into the passenger’s seat.
The moment my butt hit the seat, I remembered that a dead man had been the last one to … ah … rest on it. I blocked that memory out of my mind and closed the door. If I couldn’t get past it, how could I expect a customer to?
“Why are you sitting here, Cory?”
“Brennan and I watched some old black and white movies last night, the kind where the couples sat in the cars as though they were driving and the scenery moved past them.”
I smiled. “Ah, yes.”
“I don’t have anything to work on this morning, so I’m pretending Monte Carlo is moving past.”
I leaned my head against the seat rest. “Is it hot out?”
“Very. Not a cloud in the sky.”
I closed my eyes and felt the sun on my face, which wasn’t too tough since it was pouring in through the showroom window. The temperature today in Wachobe had risen to fifty degrees already. We were looking at a second Indian summer. Must be all that global warming.
“And they’re racing today. We’re in the lead.”
I opened my eyes and glanced over at him. “You’ve gotten the racing bug all of a sudden, haven’t you?”
He grinned back at me, his teeth glittering ivory from all the whiteners he used on them. According to Cory, a stage actor must have gloriously white teeth. I’d wondered more than once if he’d reached the point where they glowed in the dark. “Brennan’s excited to race this Mazda. The turbo’s got a lot of power.”
“Do you see us getting involved with other race teams, or just Brennan?”
“Just Brennan, unless you think differently.”
I closed my eyes again. “I don’t. To be honest, I’ve been wondering if I should get out of the sports car business altogether. You’re the moneymaker here. I haven’t sold much this past year and I still have this lemon.”
Cory touched my forearm. I turned toward him again.
“I think the time is coming for this car, Jo. People have forgotten about the murder. And now that fuel economy standards mandate a corporate average fuel economy of 35 miles per gallon by 2020, America isn’t going to be manufacturing the sports car classics like the Corvette. Pretty soon it will be all about imports. Our knowledge and skills will be in demand, you’ll see.”
Everything I’d read gave me the same idea, but still … “I thought about offering you the business.”
His head wagged back and forth. “I don’t want the responsibility, Jo. The last few months sucked without you. I was afraid you weren’t coming back. I wouldn’t have time for Summer Theater without you. I love cars, but I love the theater, too. I want the time to do both. Besides—” he slid his hand into mine “—we’re a team. Batman and Robin. The Lone Ranger and Tonto.”
I tapped the Ferrari’s dashboard with my free hand. “Laurel and Hardy.”
His girly eyelashes batted. “I don’t do slapstick comedy.”
“Fair enough. How about you take the day off? I owe you a few days off.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Leslie Flynn’s coming to see me at eleven. She’s going to unveil her new look.” I explained to Cory how I had enlisted Celeste’s support to makeover Leslie.
Cory wrapped his fingers around the steering wheel. “I’m not going anywhere. I have got to see that.”
“Fine, but be advised I’m also talking her out of buying the Caterham.”
____
The two-hour wait passed as if it were ten minutes. I used the time to tell Cory about Erica and Danny. I had plenty to tell and he was a good listener.
Ray stopped by at ten-thirty with a copy of Maury Boor’s DMV photo. He’d already started to show the photo in all the convenience and grocery stores plus the motels in and surrounding Wachobe, along with a photo of Jessica James.
He leaned against the Ferrari, never asking why Cory and I were sitting inside it, which was good because I didn’t want to explain ab
out Monte Carlo. “So far, no one’s seen either of them.”
“Do you have their pictures on you?” Cory asked. “Maybe I’ve seen them around.”
Unfortunately, Cory was not acquainted with the elusive Maury Boor or Jessica James.
I wasn’t surprised no one had seen Jessica. For all we knew, she was six feet under somewhere. Even though I avoided the gossip vine, I think even I would have heard if a one-armed woman was wandering around town.
Ray twirled his keys around his finger. “A number of the checkout counters in the convenience stores had sale displays of silver initial key chains just like the one Danny said his father owned. The letter P appears to be popular. Some of the displays didn’t have any left.”
Great. So maybe it was Mr. Phillips’ key chain, maybe it wasn’t. I sank a little farther into my leather seat, disappointed that Ray’s investigative efforts hadn’t paid off.
Ray’s radio squawked and a string of codes followed. He listened and eased himself off the Ferrari.
“I talked to the Buffalo PD. They’re going to send a car by Maury’s address and see what they can find out. I gotta go. I’ll call you later.” Ray kissed my cheek and left.
I stuffed the photo in my purse. I wanted to help with the search, but Leslie was on her way. As soon as she left, I’d start asking around town about Maury, too.
At one minute to eleven, the showroom bells jingled again. “Ta da.”
Cory and I looked up. He gasped.
If I hadn’t known it was Leslie Flynn, I wouldn’t have recognized her. Her hair now had a more subtle auburn color and appeared longer than the day before. Her eyes appeared darker and with thicker lashes. The red lipstick made her mouth full and lush and set off her new teeth, which were straight and white but also a little wide and long. The V-neck of her blouse drew the eye away from her broad shoulders, and its empire waist de-emphasized Leslie’s thick middle. Her fingers were manicured to match her lipstick. I had no doubt her toes matched as well.
Her wide-legged black pants swished over her black pumps as she sashayed across the room. “Celeste taught me how to walk, too.”
All I could say was “Wow.” Celeste had accomplished this magnificent transformation within twenty-four hours. No way could I return the extra six hundred dollars of clothes she’d forced on me yesterday. It would be downright disrespectful.
Cory remained speechless.
Leslie pointed to her hair. “It’s a wig. Celeste’s stylist said my hair needs a rest from all the dye and sun.”
I had a sneaking suspicion that her hair had been too thin to style, but I kept it to myself. “You look amazing. Ah-mazing.”
She hugged herself.
Cory hopped out of the car and hugged her, too. “Jo’s right. You look fabulous!” Fabulous for Leslie, that was. She still looked a bit horsy, but at least she was on her way to thoroughbred. Nevertheless, the transformation merited celebration.
I climbed out of the Ferrari. “How about I take everybody to an early lunch?”
We locked up and headed across the street to the Coachman Inn, a historic village landmark. In addition to serving meals, the inn operated paddleboat dinner cruises on the lake and rented tastefully decorated rooms with comfy poster beds and gas fireplaces. It was perfect for a romantic weekend getaway in the Finger Lakes and a delightful spot for a celebratory lunch.
In the lamp-lit, pine-floored entryway, Leslie spotted the restrooms. “I’ll meet you at the table. I was so excited this morning, I forgot to whiz.”
Cory and I waited for the hostess to seat the two groups ahead of us. Apparently, everyone in town had decided to have an early lunch. While we waited, I spotted Celeste’s best friend, Mindy something, come out of the ladies’ room. She flew into the dining room so fast that I didn’t get a chance to say “hello.” I feared Celeste might be lurking nearby as well.
The hostess greeted Cory and me. We followed her to a table near the stone fireplace.
“Jolene Asdale.”
I turned to find Celeste and her friend Mindy sitting in a booth. Both wore skirts and blouses I swore had been on the cover of the most recent Talbots’ catalog. Mindy got her hair styled at the same place as Celeste. She even had the same style, although she was a brunette. I wondered if Celeste had to give that her stamp of approval. She’d certainly never given her approval on my marriage to Ray, not when she wanted him for herself. That was why she always called me Jolene Asdale instead of Parker.
Cory continued on to the table while I stopped to thank Celeste for transforming Leslie so beautifully.
Celeste examined my pants and blouse. “I think that blouse was supposed to go with black pants, not tan.”
I resisted the impulse to bump her table and upset her drink into her lap. “I’ll remember that next time. Listen, Leslie looks fabulous. Thanks so much for your help.”
“Ugh, it took a team, Jolene. My dentist opened up at six this morning to work on her.”
“Thank him for me, too. It was worth it. The change in her appearance as well as her confidence is miraculous.”
Celeste tapped her French nails on the table. “She’s an odd one, that’s for sure. In fact—”
I held up my hand and glanced over my shoulder to make sure Leslie wasn’t in hearing distance. “She’s joining Cory and me for lunch. We’re celebrating her makeover.”
She pursed her lips. “Don’t let her overeat. There’s not much room left in those pants.”
I fumbled in my purse for the DMV picture of Maury Boor, pulled it out, and smoothed it on the table. “You two know almost everyone in town. Do either of you know Emerson Maurice Boor, Maury Boor?”
Celeste and Mindy cranked their heads sideways to study his picture. Both shook their heads.
“He’s not too bad to look at.” Celeste leaned back. “Let me guess. He has something to do with Erica’s disappearance.”
“She may be with him. I’m not sure.”
Celeste exchanged a meaningful glance with Mindy. “We’ll keep our eyes open.”
From experience, I knew that was as good as my posting a sentry on every street in Wachobe to keep watch for my sister. Celeste had the whole town and beyond on her friends and family network.
The waitress appeared next to me with their drinks.
I stepped aside to allow her access to the table.
As she passed out their glasses, she glanced down at Maury’s photo on the table. “Hey, that’s a nice picture of Maury.”
I glanced up at her in surprise. “You know him?”
“Sure. He’s our linen rep. You know, the guy who delivers our tablecloths and napkins and uniforms and aprons and stuff. He comes here once a week, usually on Wednesdays.”
I couldn’t believe my good luck. “So you’re saying he’ll be here tomorrow?”
She shrugged. “He should be.” She said Maury worked for a company called In-house Textiles.
I tried not to dance with excitement over the new lead and excused myself to call Ray right away with the news. He didn’t answer. Impatient, I decided that if he didn’t call me back by the time lunch was over, I would call the company and see if I could locate Maury myself.
I joined Cory at our table and filled him in on what I had discovered about Maury.
A minute later Leslie appeared, her lipstick and hair retouched. When she spotted Celeste, she raced across the room, pulled Celeste from her booth, and drew her into an embrace. “You’re the best.”
She released a visibly shaken Celeste. “Look at me.” She twisted from side to side. “I’m a babe.”
Celeste gave her a weak smile. “Yes.”
“I’m going to ask him for a date when he comes to the farm tomorrow. I’ll wear the green and say exactly what you told me to say.” Leslie threw her arms around Celeste again and squeezed her so tight Celeste’s eyes bugged out.
“Good. Good.” Celeste’s voice sounded more like a squeak.
“Thanks again for everything, Celeste
.”
As Leslie trotted over to join us, Mindy pointed at Leslie and leaned forward to speak to Celeste. I thought I heard her say, “That’s her.”
Celeste’s eyebrows shot up in response.
Was it my imagination or did I see gossip tendrils sprouting from both their mouths?
The dining room was beginning to fill up by the time Leslie sat down with us. “What a great girl she is.”
Cory winked at me. “Yep, that Celeste is one of a kind.”
The two glasses of champagne I drank to celebrate Leslie’s new look took the edge off the fact that Celeste and Mindy kept looking over at our table and whispering to each other all through lunch. I couldn’t imagine what the two of them were talking about, and I wasn’t sure I really wanted to know. My family had been “newsmakers” in this town for years. People loved to look at us sidewise like we were specimens under the microscope. I’d long ago decided that it was best not to ask too many questions. The answers were almost certain to depress me. This time their interest seemed to focus on Leslie. I couldn’t decide whether or not to be relieved.
Leslie drank three glasses of champagne. With her size, they didn’t seem to faze her a bit. She told Cory and me all about her visit to the hair stylist and the dentist’s office, and how excited she was to unveil her new look to her friends and family—all punctuated by exuberant gestures, much batting of the eyelashes, and multiple fluffs of her wig. Overnight, she’d transformed from a rough cowhand into a radiant flower. And no one was more excited about it than she was.
“Wait until Dr. Albert sees me.”
I looked at Leslie over my wineglass. “Dr. Albert? Dr. Simon Albert who has an office next door to the psych center?”
She nodded. “Do you know him?”
I set my glass down. “My sister has been a patient of his for a couple years now.”
Leslie forked her last bite of cheesecake. “I’ve known him about that long. We’re almost finished with our sessions.”
Cory lifted his eyebrow and looked at me. I knew he was wondering if I would be so bold as to ask Leslie what she was in treatment for.
